


dog made god

by Attempted Eloquence (ringsiderage)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal!Theo, Immortality, M/M, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, a bit of fluff too, in which Theo saves a lot of lives but no one can save his
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringsiderage/pseuds/Attempted%20Eloquence
Summary: Theo's voice is hushed when he asks, "The first time I came back...did you think I was a ghost?"Liam sighs, gazing up through his eyelashes at the chimera. He scoots closer, arms circling around Theo's waist.“I didn’t know what you were,” Liam admits. He pauses, too honest when he adds, “I still don’t.”~Every time Theo dies, he dies happy.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 185





	1. recurrent nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> basically an idea that wormed its way into and wouldn't crawl out. 
> 
> also dw I'm totally not abandoning Handle With Care, I just really wanted to write this lol!

Theo wakes up in the morgue. Tight, dark, and trapped inside a drawer, kicking his way out. 

He tumbles to the tiled floor, trembling on hands and knees as his eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights. It’s different this time. The thin white sheet draped over his body has since drifted to the ground, and there's a cardstock tag tied around his big toe. _Raeken, Theodore. 19yo._

Theo clambers to his feet on unsteady legs, supporting his weight on a metal table against the wall when his hand brushes against a large plastic bag full of clothing. Same label. 

_Raeken, Theodore. 19yo._

It’s different this time, but he doesn’t know why. Tears open the bag and slips into his clothing—there’s blood, a lot of blood—and braces himself for what comes next. Old memories surface. Long winding hallways, the echo of his name, heart leaving chest. _Raeken, Theodore, 19yo_ creeps toward the door, grasps the handle with a shaking hand, and remembers his death. 

He prepares for his eternal punishment.

*

_They initially severely underestimated the size of the hunter group. Even with Derek and Peter showing up to aid the pack’s defense, and Argent packing plenty of firepower, there were too many. Fighting a losing battle._

_But, for some odd reason, Scott’s pack has a tendency to beat unfavorable odds. They fall into a rhythm of steering clear of the hunters’ onslaught of bullets while taking them down just the same. The tides begin to turn, thank gods. Even if it’s too late._

_Too late for Theo, at least. So much for kicking a few hunters' asses and then piling back onto Scott’s couch with the pack, eating Chinese takeout and watching a shitty movie._

_That would’ve been nice._

_Another bullet embeds itself just below his collarbone, and within seconds he feels the burn of wolfsbane surging through his blood along with all the other wounds he’s tried not to think about. It’s hard to see straight, a black veil encroaching upon the corners of his vision. He forces himself to his feet, ignores the way the world sways before him, and closes the distance between himself and the hunter aiming a gun at him._

_Theo uses the last of his dwindling energy to disarm the human, but his hands are blood-slicked and he can’t properly grasp the gun with numb fingertips. In the midst of their fumbling, just as Theo manages to butt his forehead against the bridge of the hunter’s nose with a sickening crack, the trigger is pulled. They both collapse, Theo with a lovely leaking wound in the center of his abdomen to add to all the others in his collection, and the hunter with a broken nose and a likely concussion._

_He thinks this might be how it ends, staring up at the stars in the middle of the preserve as his pack finishes the fight around him. Loose-limbed and hazy, all his warmth seeping out into the ground beneath him._

_Dying boy pretends not to know he’s dying even though he feels it in the marrow of his bones. Lets his mouth stretch into a dazzling blood-tinged grin as Liam crumples to his knees beside him. The smile drops into a grimace when Liam’s fingers skirt across the holes in his flesh, only to slacken back out into a dazed numbness moments later when the pain leaks out beneath the beta’s fingertips._

_“No. No, you can’t,” Liam chokes out. “Theo, keep your eyes open. Stop.”_

_He listens, dragging open heavy eyelids just to get rid of all that unnecessary anguish in Liam’s voice. So what, Theo took a couple more bullets than he should’ve. Liam doesn’t need to sound so broken up about it._

_“We’re gonna get you to the hospital, and you’re gonna be fine. This is all going to be fine.”_

_Pained human wails sound out around them as the rest of the pack puts this feud to rest. They’d probably be able to end this stupid fucking battle a bit faster if Liam wasn’t clinging to Theo’s side, crying into his ruined t-shirt._

_Theo coughs, and it dislodges a clot of blood that spills past his lips. “Nah, it’s not. S’okay, though.”_

_“Don’t say that, why are you saying that, it’s not true, you—”_

_“Oh god,” Brett whispers, joining Liam on the other side of Theo’s failing body. “Shit. Okay, we need to...we need to burn it out. That’ll buy us time. Theo?”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“I’m gonna get Parrish. I’m gonna get Parrish and he’s gonna fix this and I need you to stay awake. You’re fucking staying awake, okay?”_

_The wolf sounds desperate, nearly pleading as he forces himself into Theo’s line of sight._

_“Yeah…’kay,” Theo mumbles. He’s relieved when Brett leaves, only because he was blocking Theo’s view of the sky. He used to be really good at spotting constellations, but all the stars are blending together now. Celestial lights streaking across his vision._

_Liam is still hunched over him, palms pressing insistent pressure against Theo’s skin even though there’s no pain to take anymore. Feels nice, anyway._

_“They still need you. It isn’t over,” Theo forces past his lips, sloppy and garbled but comprehensible nonetheless._

_“I need you.”_

_“Li...you fight best when you’re angry. So,” Theo pauses to draw in a ragged, wet breath, “So stay angry. For me.”_

_Sappy last words and unrequited love. Huh. It’s almost too noble of a death, more than he deserves. Dying for the same people that he wanted to kill just over a year ago._

_A low, keening sound tumbles out of Liam’s mouth when Theo's eyes fall shut again. They don’t reopen. He doesn’t get to see the battered bodies of their enemies scattered around the preserve. Doesn’t make it long enough to see Brett return with Parrish in tow. Doesn’t get to see the rest of the pack crowd around him, broken-hearted howls rumbling through the dense forest._

_Doesn’t get to see Lydia, stock-still and stricken, a hand placed against her neck like she’s searching for the scream lodged in her throat as she stares at the dead chimera in front of her._

*

Theo cracks open the morgue door, just enough to look down the hallway. The hospital corridor is far from busy, but it certainly isn’t empty like it normally is in these hell loops. Every so often a hospital attendant walks past and he ducks back into the room. Not dark either, the constant buzz of fluorescent lighting filling his ears instead of eerie whispers of his name. 

After a lull in traffic outside the room, Theo sneaks out. Hands clenched in fists by his side, eyes glued to the floor lest they accidentally land on the dead sister he’s running from. Tries to go unseen, though his bullet-ridden, bloodstained attire begs for attention. 

When Theo spots the E.R. exit—the glorious red neon sign that he never got the privilege of reaching the last time he did this—he runs. Fast. Like he’ll hit an invisible barrier when he makes it to the automatic doors, or maybe feel a vengeful hand wrapping around his ankle just as he passes the threshold.

There’s none of that. Just a desperate dead boy sprinting out into a quiet parking lot, wondering why he’s allowed to leave this time.

His truck isn’t in the parking lot anywhere, which further convinces him that he’s stuck once again in his own godforsaken hellscape. The sky is dark, the moon bright, and Theo feels like a stranger in his hometown. He opts to walk. Probably an odd sight to any car that passes him, a bloodied young boy traipsing on foot on the side of the road to an undetermined destination, eyes constantly sweeping his field of view as he searches for a hand reaching out to halt his progress. 

Scott’s house is closest, and also the last place Theo remembers being before heading to the preserve, so he heads there. He makes it just under twenty minutes later, notices all the pack members’ vehicles in the driveway as he approaches the front porch. All the vehicles except his own. He supposes it’s odd, but this whole loop is odd, so there’s not much else to do than accept it. He’s just grateful his heart hasn’t gotten ripped from his chest yet. 

Theo pauses on the porch. There are blatant sobs emitting from inside, loud and grief-stricken and enough to put him on edge. He tries to keep himself steady as he firmly raps his knuckle against the front door. 

After a stretch of silence that drags on for entirely too long, Melissa opens the door. Watery, red-rimmed eyes. Rust-colored stains on her scrubs. She stares at Theo and gasps, a horrible, grating sound that gets cut off as she clasps a hand over her gaping mouth. The mother is shaking, taking steps backward from the door without even bothering to close it. 

Theo’s starting to think that he might not actually be in hell this time. Just a hunch. 

He frowns, whispers, “Melissa? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” 

He doesn’t get an answer, but steps forward into the house and shuts the door behind himself, instantly cognizant of the other pairs of eyes on him. When he turns toward the living room, the whole pack is there. Wide-eyed with stunned expressions. 

They kind of look like they’ve seen a ghost. 

The silence is more than unnerving. Most of them have taken steps back, like Theo’s presence in and of itself is a threat. He observes the tremble of Brett’s chin, the way tears well up in Corey and Alec’s eyes. The arm Scott has wrapped around Malia tightens as he pulls her closer to his chest. Derek and Stiles glance between each other and back at Theo, brows furrowed, mouths pressed into a thin line. Argent crosses toward Melissa to wrap her in a tight, grounding embrace. Mason’s got a hand clamped on Liam’s shoulder like he’s trying to keep the werewolf from lunging forward. Lydia looks haunted. 

So clearly Theo’s done something wrong. Some evil thing. A gap in his memory where he committed a treacherous act. Unforgivable, even for the McCall pack. 

He only manages to utter a broken, _“Guys?”_ before Liam charges toward him appearing both determined and desperate and terrified all in one. The pack, all of them, warn against it. Distressed pleas crawling past their lips that Liam ignores. 

Liam doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Theo, who’s frozen as he tries to figure out why everyone is so scared of him. The palm of Liam’s hand makes contact with Theo’s neck, fingers tightening against the skin just below his jawline. _Is he taking my pulse?_

The beta closes his eyes and draws in a shuddery breath. He pauses, takes a step back, and opens eyes wide and startled. 

“Li—” 

He can’t even finish the thought before Liam’s arms are wrapping around his waist, squeezing _hard_. Enough to make Theo a bit breathless. If he wasn’t concerned before, he certainly is now. The rest of the pack seems to let out a collective sob of relief before they’re crowding him, fingers skirting over his skin and eyes searching his face as if they’re expecting him to disappear. 

Maybe not something evil, then. He’s feeling more than smothered and breaks up the impromptu puppy pile with a loud, exasperated, “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

That at least snaps the group into attention. They follow Scott’s lead, clambering back into their seats in the den. Theo is dragged down to the couch by Liam, and even once he’s seated the wary, curious glances in his direction don’t stop. He returns each one with a halfhearted glare of his own. 

Liam won’t look directly at him and Theo can’t quite discern why that bothers him so much, but his discontent is staved off by the warmth of the beta’s grip against his hand. Both afraid to acknowledge it, risk that contact being taken away, and certain Liam isn’t even consciously aware of doing it himself. The group’s sat too long in a stilted silence before Scott clears his throat and speaks. 

“Theo,” he starts, and his voice is rough, “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

He tells them. Recounts the pack meeting before they drove to the preserve, the hunters in numbers far greater than they’d anticipated, the fighting, getting shot. A lot. Summarizes everything he recalls happening before he was forcing his way out of a morgue drawer once again.

Liam and Brett look equal parts wounded and horrified at that, being the only two people to whom Theo bothered admitting what happened when he was trapped in the Skinwalkers’ prison. 

Scott goes silent, deflates. Smells guilty, confused. So does everyone else, though. 

Stiles scrubs a hand over his face as he says, “Theo, man, you were dead over an hour ago.” 

It doesn’t sound like a joke, nor is it particularly funny, but Theo laughs. Hard. Gut-wrenching cackles ripped from his throat out of desperation more than anything else, and no one stops him. Not until Melissa steps forward, forehead creased. 

“You died on the field, Theo. We tried to resuscitate you for twenty-eight minutes.” 

And any amusement is brought to a halt with her solemn agreement. Theo feels short of breath, not in a good way, not from laughing too hard at a stupid punchline to a fucked up joke. The dead silence in the room is enough to back up her claim. 

“C’mon,” his voice cracks, “I’m at least worth half an hour of effort right?” 

No one even offers up a chuckle. Liam’s hand tightens the grip against his own. 

Scott surges forward then, grabbing a hold and inspecting Theo’s arms, legs, even pulls up the chimera’s shirt before the unwarranted hands are swatted away. 

He frowns. “Even if...even if your heart started beating again—” 

“And it didn’t,” Malia blurts. “We would’ve heard it. On the ride to the hospital...we would’ve heard it.” 

Theo squirms, tries not to picture his corpse being driven in the back of someone’s truck to the hospital. 

“There was wolfsbane in them. You couldn’t be fully healed right now. Not this soon,” Scott finishes. 

He’s not wrong. Less deadly wounds than this and it’s taken Theo more than a day to recover, and even then there’s normally a lingering ache for days after that. 

But fully healed he is. Bloody bullet holes in his clothing with nothing but unblemished flesh beneath them. 

“Do you hurt? Anywhere?” Liam whispers, although the rest of the pack picks it up. Theo’s sure he already knows the answer, given their hands are intertwined and there’s a distinct lack of black veins trailing up the beta’s arms. 

Theo sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “No...my head, maybe. Mostly ‘cause I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this whole thing.” 

“When I was down in Mexico I died too. Temporarily,” Derek speaks, green eyes boring into his roommate’s. “Came back as a wolf. It might be a similar thing.” 

“Yeah. Maybe,” Theo breathes, sinking back into the couch. A fluke. That’s what it is. 

“Well for what it’s worth, I’m really fucking glad you’re not dead, T. Don’t pull that shit again,” Brett orders from the opposite side of the room, all shaky and oozing pent-up stress. There’s a general huff of agreement. Melissa mumbles something about needing to correct his medical records so that he’s no longer legally a dead person, and it’s enough to dispel any remaining tension in the room. Theo shakes off his paranoia, the lingering doubt that Tara’s hand is still grazing the earth below him in order to rip out the organ beating steadily in his chest. 

“Glad to know my not-dying was enough to turn you all into a useless puddle of tears, though,” Theo snorts. “I should fake my death more often.” 

He’s still getting used to it, feeling this welcome, this cared about. He’d been toeing the line between reluctant ally and official pack member ever since the initial war with Monroe, but after a particularly unfortunate incident—the entire pack finding out about his mobile living situation when Parrish ended up being the deputy that knocked on his window one night—his favor shifted. After an argument-ridden pack meeting with Theo playing the role of defensive dog backed into a corner, Derek offered up the empty room in his loft. Free of charge. Theo took the charitable offer with gritted teeth and damaged pride. 

But that’s beside the point. Big bad chimera of death—perhaps now the nickname can be taken more literally—gained the pack he’d always wanted along the way. 

Liam lets go of his hand, but only to jab an elbow into Theo’s side. It’s only when the pack resumes less fraught conversation that Liam whispers, _please don’t_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this short lil piece! Parts two and three should be out soon, so stay tuned. I also recently posted a Steo fic if you're into that ship and would like to check it out!
> 
> If you enjoyed this, I'd really appreciate kudos/comments/whatnot! :)


	2. a pattern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time's pretty fluid in this one, skips ahead from section to section n whatnot

“Wait, so he asked you out first?” Alec asks, leaning forward from the backseat of the truck. 

Theo snorts, a fond smile curling onto his lips at the memory. 

“No, actually. He just kissed me. Randomly,” he shrugs. “Then he stormed out of the loft. I had to chase him halfway down the block. And then I had to convince _him_ to go on a date with _me_.” 

He grazes a thumb over his bottom lip like he’s remembering the way Liam’s mouth felt against his. The first kiss had hurt, honestly. Just a bit. The beta had mashed their faces together like he was worried that anything less than violent contact shared between them would be unwanted. 

The second was better.

Corey grins, nudging Theo from the passenger seat. “I told you he likes you! He even called Mase last weekend after running with you and spent a full hour whining about how hot you looked all sweaty.” 

“Gross,” Alec groans, slumping back into his seat. 

“It’s not gross, it’s about time. I thought we’d graduate before you and Liam got together,” Corey chuckles. “First date plans, spill.” 

Theo turns his gaze back out to the forest view beyond his windshield, mostly to obscure the two boys’ view of the grin spreading across his face. 

It’s their turn to patrol, this time in the forest just beyond where the Hale House once stood. After the hunter ambush a few weeks ago—the one resulting in Theo’s untimely death and consequent revival—Scott insisted that the pack stay vigilant, taking shifts surveilling hunter hotspots around the town. 

“Uh, not entirely sure yet, but I was thinking of going to…” 

Theo trails off, sentimental smile replaced by a cautious expression as his jaw clicks shut. His eyes dart back and forth, scanning the landscape before him. He glances in the rearview mirror, cranes his neck to gaze out the back windshield. 

“We have company,” he sighs. 

It’s well hidden, but there. A single black SUV with tinted windows parked far on the other side of the new housing development, the faint rumble of its engine barely perceptible from the distance. 

Corey follows his gaze. “We could stay in here, lay low, go invisible? All they’ll see is an empty truck.” 

“They might have seen us already,” Theo disagrees. He’d also rather not have his truck become the unfortunate target of a hunter ambush. It was expensive enough getting shattered windows and bullet holes in the exterior fixed once, he’s not too keen on doing it again. 

“Well, are we trying to fight them or get out of this unharmed? ‘Cause I like Corey’s plan,” Alec says. 

The SUV draws nearer. Still far enough that they could probably floor it, get onto the main road and evade a confrontation, but close enough that the time for decision-making is dwindling. 

“Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Theo grumbles, turning back around in his seat to put the ignition into drive. 

Or not. Because a second car crept up from the opposite direction while their backs were turned. Again, far away, but still obscuring their clear path toward the road. Three sitting ducks in a truck. 

“Get out,” Theo orders. “Corey, you and Alec stick together, go invisible. I’m going to get out and leave the door open. You’re gonna crawl up to the front and climb out after me. Don’t let them see you. We need them to think there’s only one of us. You know what to do.”

Were it not for their benevolent moral compass, Corey would’ve made a great assassin for the pack given his ability. As a compromise, he’s often sent out with one other pack member as an invisible duo able to covertly approach their assailants without breaking cover until they’re disarmed or incapacitated. Or both. 

“And what about you?” the chameleon hisses, even as he grabs Alec’s wrist, the two of them fading into the interior of the car. 

He shrugs, opening the driver’s-side door. 

“Guess I’m gonna be the bait.”

*

It could have gone better. 

Corey and Alec did manage to exit the truck without being noticed, and Theo on his own lured the hunters from their vehicles. Less than they expected this time, just two in each car. The chimera got to play a fun game of dodge the bullet until Corey and Alec took out the first two. The last two posed a bit of a problem, mainly because they watched their counterparts be taken down by invisible attackers. They shot haphazardly, wildly aiming at the two undetectable boys so that Theo had to practically jump in front of the trajectory of the bullets as opposed to dodging in order to ensure neither Alec nor Corey got hit before disarming the last two. 

So perhaps Mr. Big, Brave, and Noble put his friends’ lives before his, took a bullet to the chest, just above his heart. Whoops. It worked anyway. Corey and Alec, bolstered by the combined rage and despair at seeing the chimera go down, charged forward and finished the job. 

Yellow wolfsbane is powerful stuff, even for a chimera. One bullet with good aim—it was a lucky shot, alright—and Theo hit the ground with a low groan, couldn’t get back up. Corey and Alec made it back to the chimera’s side just in time to witness his feeble attempts at extracting the bullet. He’d gotten claws grazing the casing before black spots danced around his vision, a nice complement to the black blood spewing from the wound. Things got a bit fuzzy after that.

Thing is, Alec swore Theo died. Said there was at least a sixty-second window after they burnt the wolfsbane out of his chest where his heart didn’t beat. Corey neither confirmed nor denied the claim, a bit preoccupied with gagging on the scent of charred flesh. Alec tore into Theo anyway once he woke up with a growl of _how about you stop being such a self-sacrificial bastard and taking unnecessary risks? Corey and I would’ve been fine_.

Two times a coincidence, they say. 

He asks Derek to have the loft to himself that night, invites Liam over for dinner and a movie, and considers himself very lucky.

*

“Do you still have nightmares about it?” Liam murmurs against his chest. “About being underground, I mean.” 

They’ve long since forgotten about the old movie on the television, gorged themselves on the Italian food Theo ordered and then curled up together on the couch. Bodies molded together, two soft beings with sharp edges. 

Theo shifts, nuzzling his nose into Liam’s hair. He whispers, “Yeah. Sometimes.” 

They were the worst when he first came back. Not a night went by where he managed to sleep more than an hour or two before being ripped from his sleep by his own screaming, fear clawing at his mind. Moving in with Derek didn’t make them better. After the first month of waking up with a shout caught in his throat, staring around an unfamiliar, barren, industrial room with far too many dark corners that Tara could crawl out from, he asked—begged, really—if they could redecorate. Turn the space into something less cold, clinical, and eerily reminiscent of past times. 

The older wolf was surprisingly compliant; some cozy furnishings, warmer lighting, and quite a few houseplants later the loft stopped feeling like such a wasteland. The change in environment seemed to help Derek as well, who’s had more than his fair share of sleepless nights since Theo’s moved in. They fall into an unspoken ritual on those nights—when Derek seems like a shell of himself and Theo can’t shake the haunted look in his own eyes—the two of them pile onto the couch in front of the television and wordlessly seek comfort in the other’s presence. 

“I keep having nightmares about seeing you die,” Liam admits. His voice cracks when he adds, “Except you never come back.” 

Theo’s breath hitches. He tries not to sound so unsettled when he says, “You’re not gonna lose me.” 

“I don’t think that’s a promise you can keep,” Liam mumbles. “None of us can.” 

Because they are powerless against the jaws of this town. 

Theo presses a kiss along the edge of Liam’s neck. 

“I mean it anyway.” 

*

Monroe is back, if what Parrish gleaned from his interrogation of the last bunch of hunters was correct. And that’s important, but what’s most important right now is defeating her well-trained lackeys and making it to see another day. 

Coward move, really. Sending out troops to do her dirty work from afar. The pack’s still working on discerning where she’s commanding them from, but until then they’ve got a heavily-armed group of human scum to subdue. Messy work it is, though. They’re not just wielding the usual guns and crossbows, but flashbangs, taser wands, and swords. Long fucking _tactical blades_ that are much too good at preventing close combat. 

The warehouse rings with the sounds of war. Grunts and shouts and whimpers all stifled between concrete walls. One cohesive pack all animal instinct and bared teeth against a miniature army of mindless drones with only the aim to kill. Liam and Theo move in sync as per usual, a divine sort of chaos. Consuming their attackers’ hate and spitting it back out at them. 

With the combined efforts of the pack, the number of hunters still standing dwindles, but a surge of electricity from a taser wand seizes Liam’s muscles. Theo turns, _briefly_ , just to make sure the beta’s alright. 

That was his mistake. 

His split-second of inattention, bent over Liam’s writhing body, is all that’s needed for a hunter to plunge the blade of a tactical sword between Theo’s shoulder blades, applying more pressure until it comes out on the _other side_. The hunter holds him there—impaled chimera stuck on a blade above the beta he was trying to protect—and then draws the weapon back out with an awful wet, squishing sound. 

Theo is on his knees, staring at the rift in his chest. And then he’s collapsing forward, eyes wide, blank, and unseeing on top of Liam. A heavy void of nothingness welcomes him. 

Self-sacrificial bastard, he is. 

Halfhearted gunfire ushers him back. And Theo’s not on his face anymore, but on his backside, remembering the sharp, searing pain of metal through his body and then nothing else. He drags himself to his feet and looks at the stained concrete below him. Glances down at his shirt, deep sanguineous red blooming across the front of it and still wet. 

He knows he shouldn’t have survived that. 

_Once is an accident, twice a coincidence, and three times…_

Is a boy resurrected. 

Theo’s only half-aware of what he’s doing when he draws closer to Liam, who’s blind with rage and fighting with reckless abandon. The werewolf doesn’t even see him, tunnel vision on the hunter before him, and Theo doesn’t stop him. He walks past the two and approaches the lone hunter standing at the edge of the warehouse away from the rest of the skirmish. The one with a gun in his shaking hand and terror in his eyes. 

Theo doesn’t stop walking until his forehead touches the barrel of the gun. The hunter is motionless beyond the tremble in his hands, finger on a trigger he’s unable to pull. Theo does it for him. 

A sharp pop echoing against the walls of the warehouse followed by the thump of a limp body hitting the ground. It draws the attention of the entire group. 

The next time living dead boy opens his eyes the fighting is over. The pack is crowded around him. Again. Wearing those same faces they wore when he walked into Scott’s house after leaving the morgue. 

Liam doesn’t look mad anymore, not like he did as his claws slashed hunters' flesh in retaliation. He just looks scared. Not for Theo. Of him. 

They all do. 

He sits up from the concrete floor, brushes his fingers against the back of his head. There’s blood crusted and caked into his hair. He touches his forehead and red flakes off onto his fingers. 

Malia is the first to speak, tremulous _what are you?_ spilling past her lips. 

He doesn’t really have much of an answer. Offers only a shaky, “Alive, I guess.” 

*

Theo showers away his two deaths and tries not to overhear the pack’s heated debate regarding his humanity or lack thereof drifting into the bathroom from the main room of Derek’s loft. He stares at the pink water swirling down the drain, tries not to wonder why he keeps walking away from death unscathed. 

Once he’s clean and dry and pretending not to fear his own body, he returns to the group, taking a seat on the edge of the window-side table. The questions start. 

“Did you know? That you could...you know,” Stiles gestures loosely at his body, “Not die?” 

His jaw clenches. “Why would I have known that.” 

“You walked up to a fucking gun and pulled the trigger, Theo. Most people who don’t think they’re invincible wouldn’t do that,” Brett counters, anger clouding his expression. He’s not wrong, but he’s conveniently leaving out the part where Theo also had his chest cavity eviscerated by a sword and lived. 

Theo stays silent. He probably would’ve taken a lot more risks—especially _before_ he got sent to hell—had he known. 

Scott tries this time. “Before that first time in the preserve, you’ve never died before right? Never been...killed or anything?” 

“Or failed as an experiment when you were with the Dread Doctors?” Corey adds. 

“Before this I was normally the one doing the killing, remember?” he deadpans. Softens his tone a bit when he adds, “And no. My body never rejected the transformation.”

Not like the others. The first chimera, and the only one to never hear those words: _condition terminal._ And yet he was still a failure. 

“How long was I out?” he asks after a lull in conversation. 

“About fifteen minutes,” Derek answers, arms crossed over his chest. “The time before that had to be at least twenty.” 

It was kind of a shitty thing to do. Leave the pack down one member just to test his little deathless theory in the midst of a battle. 

Theo apologizes, voice strained, “I’m...sorry. For doing that. For making you see that.”

His eyes are trained on Liam, who’s rigid and catatonic, won’t meet his gaze. Staring down at his hands like he’s the one that shoved a blade through Theo’s chest, who pointed the gun at his head. 

“Dude, we just found out that you’re like, immortal or something? You don’t need to apologize,” Mason huffs, lips caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace. 

Stiles shakes his head, “We don’t know that yet, we don’t have any proof that—”

“I never screamed,” Lydia blurts. Wide eyes trained on Theo. “The first time you died I thought there was something wrong with _me_ , that I didn’t know beforehand. But I didn’t feel anything tonight, not even a tickle in my throat, and you died twice.” 

The room falls silent, mulling over the banshee’s words. 

Stiles slumps further into his seat, head resting against the arm Derek has dangled across the back of the couch. 

“Okay,” the human says, “Let’s just...go over what we know about this. Theo has officially died three times in the past month, and—” 

“Four,” Alec corrects, ducking his head. “Four times. It happened when we got ambushed during that patrol last week.” 

Theo had politely requested— _demanded_ —that the kid keep his mouth shut about that, given that the pack was already freaked out enough about the ambush and Theo getting shot in the first place. He still isn’t convinced that even counts. Sixty-seconds could’ve just been the time needed for his body to stop being such a crappy werewolf imitation and kick in the healing factor. 

_“What?”_

It’s the first thing Liam says, and it’s more of a growl than anything else. Livid glare pointed in the chimera’s direction. There’s a big red splotch on the front of his t-shirt that practically screams _THEO’S CORPSE WAS HERE_. 

He has to look away. 

“I...that was, that’s not necessarily true,” Theo mumbles. 

Alec argues, “You weren’t breathing.” 

“I don’t heal as fast, it could’ve just been—”

“You weren’t breathing for an entire minute _and_ you didn’t have a heartbeat.” 

“ _Theo,_ ” Scott chides, a mournful expression on his face, “You can’t just omit stuff like that.” 

If anything, it just sounds like he has a really weak and incapable body right now, rather than an inexplicably durable one. Death by a single bullet. Great. 

“This is so fucked,” Corey mutters, burying his face in his hands. 

“Four times, then,” Stiles weakly corrects. “So it looks like wolfsbane bullets and uh, swords, don’t really do the trick.” 

Malia scrunches up her nose, asks aloud, “Does it have to do with his body staying intact? I mean, he couldn’t possibly revive himself if he was slashed into a bunch of itty bitty pieces.” 

“Or like, burned into a pile of ash or something?” Mason adds. 

He wants to shout, _“I’m right here!”_ but can only think _I am here and I will always be here and I can never stop being here because my body won’t let me_. 

“Maybe,” Scott sighs, “But we’re obviously not going to test either one of those theories.” 

“What if he drowned and died underwater. His body can clearly heal itself but it can’t...wring out his lungs like a wet sponge, right?” Stiles offers with a shrug. 

“Well so far he hasn’t instantly awakened the moment his heart starts beating again, so hypothetically...he’d start inhaling water before he regained consciousness and then drown repeatedly? I think?” Lydia proposes. 

Theo can’t hold back the visceral shudder that runs down the base of his spine at the thought. 

_“Maybe there’s a limit to how many times he’s allowed to die. Like a cat.”_

_“Or maybe he’s tethered here for some reason?”_

_“Well, maybe it’s got something to do with the Skinwalkers’ prison...”_

Maybe, maybe, maybe Theo Raeken just can’t fucking die and that’s the long and short of it. 

“We don’t even know why or how he can revive himself, let alone the parameters of it,” Derek points out with a concerned glance toward the chimera in question, who’s opted to politely refrain from theorizing about potential ways to kill himself. 

Undead boy can think only of the fact that he murdered his sister and was rewarded with eternal life. Caught six feet deep in his own thoughts. 

“Theo?” 

The chimera’s head whips upward upon hearing his name called for what must not be the first time. Just a mass of inquisitive faces staring back at him, all questions and no answers. 

“I...need some air,” he mutters, darting toward the front door and not turning back toward the group calling out behind him. Doesn’t stop feeling so claustrophobic and cagey until he makes it out to the sidewalk, taking a seat on the pavement. He draws his legs toward his chest, resting his forehead against his knees. Remembers how to breathe. Not that it matters, really. 

He’s not alone for long, turns around at the sound of footsteps and is greeted by Liam’s wan grin and a soft, “Hey.” 

The beta plops down beside him, shoulders bumping as they stare out at the tranquil road ahead of them. 

“You’re not mad at me for the shit I pulled earlier?”

The evidence of which still coats Liam’s clothing, red and ugly and hard to look at. 

“No. I just...I don’t think any of us really know how to feel yet,” Liam answers, lightly knocking his knee against Theo’s as he adds, “Especially not you.” 

Theo huffs out a humorless laugh, nodding. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

“I need to tell you something I should’ve mentioned a long time ago.” 

“Honestly, Liam, I don’t think I’m in the mood for any further life-altering revelations,” he sighs. His eyes flicker over the wolf’s face, the anxious crease in his brow. 

“Go ahead, though,” he relents. 

“A couple months after I brought you back, Kira called me,” Liam starts, frowning, “Well, Scott actually, but she wanted to talk to me ‘cause I had the sword. She sounded...guilty? Said she regretted ever suggesting that we send you underground—”

How kind of her to change her mind after the fact.

“She kept saying that it wasn’t fair to send you to your death without giving you a chance to redeem yourself.” 

_“What?”_

Liam grimaces, “I know, I know. But I told her you weren’t dead, that I managed to bring you back and you were _fine_. And she was really shocked by that. But—” 

“So you guys put me there to die,” Theo states, voice hollow. “Why didn’t you think to tell me that?” 

Liam makes a little agitated noise at being interrupted. He turns himself on the curb to look directly at Theo, taking one of the chimera’s hands in his.

“We didn’t think you were going to _die_ , Theo. Kira didn’t even fully understand her ability at that point. We wouldn’t have done that to you, I swear,” the beta stresses. 

“Okay.” 

Liam exhales, continuing, “I still don’t understand what she meant, but she kept asking how you survived it.” 

It. Heart leaving chest. A loop that seemed endless and unchanging. An underground prison that was meant to be a coffin. 

“I died down there,” he chokes out.

Over and over only to wake up and start anew. Just like up here. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Liam murmurs, scooting closer to rest his head in the crook of Theo’s shoulder. “I’m telling you this just to say, whatever it is that keeps you from dying, I think it was there before the Skinwalkers. I think it’s why you...survived.” 

It’s hard to believe he could’ve been impervious to death for however long without knowing. Then again, his life was admittedly less deadly before he moved back to Beacon Hills. The town has a habit of slaughtering its inhabitants. 

“Maybe the Dread Doctors made you that way,” Liam suggests. 

Theo snorts, mouth twisting into a sneer. “That’s bullshit. I was a failure. They told me that.” 

“What are you talking about? You were the first and only success. The rest died, except the ones you resurrected.”

The chimera flinches at the memory, retroactive disgust for the person he allowed himself to turn into.

“They wanted to get rid of me,” Theo states. “It’s why I was allowed to move here, to try and take over the pack.” 

Liam falls silent for a moment, thinking. 

“Maybe they were afraid of you. ‘Cause they managed to give you the one thing they wanted for themselves,” he guesses. 

“...immortality.”

“Yeah,” Liam whispers, squeezing Theo’s hand. “It’s not that they couldn’t make more chimeras like you, it’s that they didn’t want to, maybe.”

His existence threatened theirs and they couldn’t undo it. Convinced him that he was merely a fledgling imitation of success and he believed it. 

“But, I’m weaker than you. All of you. I heal slower, my senses aren’t as sharp, I—”

“Because you’re not a werewolf, Theo,” Liam interrupts. 

He says it gently enough that the words don’t sting like they normally would. 

“You’re something else entirely, and that’s okay.” 

*

Heavy, battle-trodden footsteps plod in his direction as a clash continues beyond his line of sight. Liam kneels down beside a fallen Theo, but he doesn’t look scared this time. Offers only a faint, wistful grin as he grabs the chimera’s hand and presses a tender kiss there. 

Black veins trail up his forearm, and Theo’s able to breathe just a little deeper. Isn’t wincing around the crackle in his lungs anymore. His eyes droop, falling shut. When he manages to blink them back open to half-mast again, Brett’s got a tight grasp on his other hand. No matter how many times they do this, the wolf never manages to wipe the pinched, worried look from his face in the final moments. 

Theo wants to say something, anything to convince Brett that it’ll be fine, that he’d gladly throw his body on the line to save everyone else, but only manages an incoherent slur of sounds that don’t even reach his own ears. 

Brett squeezes tighter. 

Liam cards a hand through Theo’s hair just as he starts to drift, just as his pulse stutters and wanes. He leans down close to his ear and whispers words reserved just for the chimera. 

_“I love you. I’ll see you when you wake up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly don't even know if this story makes sense outside of my mind ajlfdkal I'll probably explain more in the end if it's unclear
> 
> this is irrelevant shit that will prob never be mentioned anywhere in the story but in case you're curious about my mental world/timeline: the puppy pack minus alec (who's a junior) are all seniors. theo's a year past his own graduation, doing community college rn. Scott, Stiles, and Lydia all should be away at school but....listen shit's bad they're allowed to take a semester off lmao.
> 
> But thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. One more chapter, what more is there to find out hmmmmmm? stay tuned! comments/kudos/feedback are greatly appreciated! :)


	3. new dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I accidentally uploaded this w/o a chunk of the beginning in it, it's fixed now whoops

Even the grim and terrible deaths come to lovely ends. There’s never fear. Just a desperate god shrouded in the body of a hemorrhaging boy kept warm by the soothing hands giving him nothing but tenderness the battles never offer him. Pain bleeds out beneath their fingertips. He’s lucky to find such solace even in the midst of a long, drawn-out war. 

This is the pack’s liturgy. Sacred circle of gentle words and gentler touches, fingers carding through his hair, stroking against the unwounded parts of his flesh. Sometimes there’s singing, quiet and distant to Theo’s ears but comforting nonetheless. Eyes fluttering shut as they thank the god in the boy for keeping them alive. 

Every time Theo dies, he dies happy. 

*

Awareness comes in waves. Feeling is first. Warm skin pressed against the cool metal of Deaton’s examination table. The lack of an ache. Like there wasn’t a slew of bullets-crossbows-blades that sent him hurtling toward oblivion in the first place. Recollection of this death and that blur together. Can’t remember who he tried to save or why this time. Only hopes it worked. 

Smell’s next. The sharp, acidic scent of antiseptic mixed with his own blood. Then pack: there, but distant. The smell of home, of belonging. A muddle of chemosignals, too. Anger, desperation, sadness, anxiety all wrapped into one unpleasant cloud that wafts toward Theo’s nose. 

He can hear his pack arguing just beyond the clinic’s exam room, the sound of Deaton shuffling about the space as conversation drifts in from beyond the door. 

_“...but, Theo offered to—”_

Scott, his voice lacking its usual confident register. 

_“And you’re just going to allow it?”_

Liam. Warmth blooms in Theo’s chest at just the sound, even if he can’t contextualize the conversation he’s hearing. 

Malia chimes in with, _“What other choice do we have? Monroe and her army are on our tails, have us incredibly outnumbered, and they won’t stop until she’s killed us or we’ve defeated them.”_

 _“Letting Theo die won’t change that. This has gone on too long,”_ Liam growls. 

_“Liam, no one wants him to die. None of us. And there’s no perfect solution to any of this,”_ Stiles cuts in, _“He’s not disposable, but...he can’t actually die. And that’s something none of us have.”_

 _“At least call it what it is, then. You’re exploiting his martyr complex for the sake of the pack,”_ Brett argues. Theo can practically picture the sneer on his face. 

Theo gets hit with another wave of palpable distress, strong enough that it could only be coming from Scott. It’s grounding, keeps Theo from drifting away in his half-conscious haze. 

The alpha’s tone is harsher than before when he says, _“I know you guys haven’t all been around for it but, we’ve lost so many people to this fucking town and all the battles we have to constantly fight. If we could avoid ever losing another person from this pack then is it not worth it? I can’t bury another friend.”_

 _“Saving us is never a guarantee. Theo can’t be everywhere at once, even though he tries,”_ Derek counters. _“He could take a deadly hit for one person just for another one of us to go down while he’s out. You can’t put the weight of keeping all of us alive entirely on him.”_

_“He’s...right. It sucks, but this is a part of our lives. The only person that Theo's ability is guaranteed to save is himself.”_

It’s Lydia, and the statement hurts. More than the bullet-crossbow-blade that put him here in the first place. 

_“So, what do we do?”_ Mason asks. 

Alec replies with, _“We should let him choose. It should be his decision whether or not he wants to keep doing this.”_

_“He’s not going to stop trying to save us as long as our lives are at risk.”_

The statement comes from Corey—it’s true, completely true—and has Theo fumbling for control over his own body. There’s a slow intake of breath, and then golden eyes blinking open. Like waking up from a nap. 

Deaton’s lips twitch upward when he makes eye contact with Theo before the veterinarian steps out of the room.

Stiles says, _“Well if that’s what he wants to do then—”_

Deaton interrupts the discussion with a hushed, _“He’s awake.”_

Theo can feel the pack trying to wrangle their chemosignals in, regaining authority of their emotions. Even so, Liam reeks of an anger that wanes once he shoves through the exam room doors first. A muffled, _“give them a minute”_ drifting in from the lobby. 

He sits up, on the verge of scooting himself off the table to address Liam when the boy opts to hop onto the table _with_ him. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi yourself,” Liam grumbles, greeting Theo with a self-indulgent kiss. Then another slew of kisses like he’s personally ensuring every wound on the chimera’s body is healed. “Did you hear all that?”

“Bits and pieces,” Theo shrugs. Liam regards him with a desperate, searching look. 

He says, “I’m okay, Li.” 

And that threatens to make the beta crumple. Blue eyes gone all watery and sad. Theo hates it. 

“Even if you’re fine with it, with dying for us—which you’re not, you say you are, but I don’t believe it—I’m not, okay?” Liam hisses. Eases off the edge in his voice when he adds, “I _can’t_ be fine with sending my boyfriend out to take all the hits for us every time we battle just to protect the pack.” 

Theo doesn’t know what to say to that. Wishes that he wasn’t the source of all of Liam’s nightmares lately but can’t abandon his role of pack sacrificial lamb. 

The younger boy’s voice is strained when he continues, “And every time I have to sit there and wait and think 'what if he doesn’t wake up this time?'”

“ _Liam,_ ” Theo breathes, pleading. 

“I don’t know if it’s because in some fucked up way you think you owe it to us because of everything you did before, but I’m telling you that you don’t, okay?” Liam rushes out, taking the chimera’s hands in his. “We sent you to hell and that was awful and you don’t owe us shit. Be selfish for once. I don’t want to see you die anymore, Theo.”

A ruminative silence falls over the couple, and Theo isn’t quite ready for the rest of the pack to barge in with their grateful eyes and thankful mouths. He decides to fill that void. 

Theo's voice is hushed when he asks, "The first time I came back...did you think I was a ghost?"

Liam sighs, gazing up through his eyelashes at the chimera. He scoots closer, arms circling around Theo's waist. 

“I didn’t know what you were,” Liam admits. He pauses, too honest when he adds, “I still don’t.” 

Theo nods, chin settling against the top of Liam’s head. “You and me both.” 

The beta holds him tighter, talking into his bloodstained shirt when he says, “We should run away. Our lives don’t have to be like this.”  
  
Theo huffs out a quiet laugh. “You think so?” 

“Yes. We can...we can have a life so normal and boring and _safe_. You’ll forget what dying feels like.”  
  
He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sound the slightest bit pleasant. Hasn’t known an existence like that in a decade. 

“And we can, I dunno, grow old together,” Liam says, voice catching at the suggestion. 

Theo recognizes that train of thought Liam’s led himself toward, has spent entirely too much time fixated on the possibility of living long enough to see everyone he loves die. Of living long enough that the memory of them eventually fades. 

He wishes the ache in his chest at the thought was enough to kill him. 

He offers a weary, “That sounds nice.” 

*

Theo wakes up with goosebumps on his skin and the taste of blood on his lips. It’s not the first time this week, nor will it be the last. The nightmares are different lately. No longer an eerily familiar loop of morgue drawers, empty hospital corridors, and Tara. 

It’s everyone now, and Theo can only watch passively as his pack members rip his beating heart from his chest. Amicable, smiling faces holding his life in the palm of their hands. 

Restless nighttime hours wear on his mind. 

It’s fucked up to admit, but he thinks dying _might_ be easier. Just a deep, empty sleep that offers no nightmares nor cognizance. He doesn’t have to be left with his thoughts, doesn’t need to acknowledge that there’s potentially an endless lifetime of terrible things ahead of him. Plus, coming back is the only time Theo feels well rested these days. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to crave the brief moments of reprieve from existence if he's actually immortal. 

He slips out of bed and traipses into the kitchen only to encounter Derek hunched over two mugs of tea, one of which he slides toward Theo once the chimera draws nearer. Must’ve been waiting. 

“You’re not sleeping lately,” the wolf comments. 

Theo accepts the tea with a hum of appreciation, warming his hands on the mug before taking a sip. 

He says, “Yeah, well, you must not be either if you’ve noticed that.” 

Derek shoots one of those snarky looks in his direction, wordlessly prompting the chimera to elaborate. 

“Nightmares. My subconscious is out to get me, that’s all,” Theo shrugs. “Probably stress from the Monroe shit.” 

“S’that all that’s bothering you?”

“Yep. What’s keeping you up at night, huh?” Theo deflects.

“Your nightmares are loud,” Derek states, unimpressed. “The only night they didn’t wake me up was when Liam slept over earlier this week.” 

“Oh.”

“I’d say that Liam should stay over more often, but I don’t prefer being awoken by the sounds of you two having—”

“Okay, okay, I get the point, Derek,” Theo grits out, drowning his embarrassment in a large gulp of tea. 

A faint smirk breaks through the worry on the wolf’s features. He gives a curt nod before shuffling off to his bedroom. 

“It’s not like I haven’t had to hear you and Stiles fuck,” Theo mutters beneath his breath. 

Derek’s out of sight when he yells in response, “I heard that.”

“Yeah, so did I. On repeat,” Theo calls back. 

He scrubs a hand over his face and gazes around the darkened loft. He knows he needs to rectify the source of his recent anxiety, but tonight is not the night.

Instead, Theo rummages through the cabinets for a cup, fills it up with water, and sets about watering the houseplants. That’s at least an activity quiet enough to allow Derek to catch some sleep, even if Theo himself cannot.

*

“When you read the book—ah, _shit_ , wait—did you...did you see anything? Did it affect you like the rest of us?” 

Scott glances away from their game of Mario Kart to regard the chimera. 

Theo doesn’t meet that gaze, eyes glued to the game before them as shakes his head and says, “I didn’t actually read it.” 

Stiles nearly drops his controller, eyes flickering away from the screen to gawk at the chimera. 

“So you mean that you sat there with us for hours while we finished the book and pretended to read?” he asks. He turns back to the screen with a scowl, “Aw, c’mon, a blue shell? Fuck outta here, Scotty.” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Theo shrugs. 

He had his reasons. Couldn’t afford to have his mental state compromised by any repressed memories the Dread Doctors novel might’ve dug up. 

And, alright, maybe he was the tiniest bit apprehensive. Whatever he’s forgotten—if anything—is probably better left deep in the recesses of his mind. 

Scott frowns. “Aren’t you curious about what it’ll show you though?”

“Nope.” 

Theo hurls a banana peel directly into Stiles’s path just before crossing the finish line, causing the human’s Toad to skid straight into 3rd place, completing the race moments after Scott’s Mario finishes. 

_“You asshole.”_

“You were gonna lose anyway,” Theo snorts, watching his Bowser take 1st place in the victory animation. 

“I mean, seriously though. I still have a copy,” Scott continues, setting aside his controller, turning to Theo. “You might find out something important, especially if it has to do with the whole resurrection thing.” 

Stiles chimes in, “I second that. Read it, coward. In fact, you should read it _now_. Where we can, y’know, make sure you don’t wander up to a rooftop in the middle of your hallucination.” 

Scott doesn’t even give him a chance to answer, darting upstairs to his room to retrieve the book’s pages. He’s back moments later, shoving the pile of pages in Theo’s face.

“This is gonna take a while,” Theo sighs, sinking back into the couch. “Y’gonna just sit here and watch me read?” 

Scott grins, all lopsided and good-natured. “Nah. We’re gonna order a pizza and keep playing. Get to work, man.” 

*

_He’s young and afraid and so much smaller and it feels wrong to be in this body._

_The cold, rough cement floor of their lab rattles his bones as he’s shoved to his knees, staring up at the three masked adults before him. He’s begging, little choked pleas torn from his throat. Tears obscure his view of the syringe held in The Surgeon’s grasp._

_A gloved hand gripping his hair wrenches his head to the side, exposing his neck. Struggling only makes it worse. With his head cranked to the side, he can’t even see what the Dread Doctors are doing to him. Eyes forced to gaze upon the faded image plastered to the wall of their laboratory. A roaring creature, head of a lion with a snake for a tail, a goat’s head protruding from the center._

_The tip of the needle just begins to prick the skin of his neck and he once more sobs out a “please, stop.” The cries of the firstborn go unheeded._ _The needle sinks in deeper. The Surgeon presses the plunger as far as it will go. The hand in his hair doesn’t let go until his body slackens in their grip. He slumps forward, gangly limbs gone limp and useless, choking on the mercury filling his lungs. Lifeless boy in a puddle of silver blood._

_“Failure.”_

“..eo? You alright?” 

Theo’s crouched in the corner of Scott’s den, his trembling hand clutching the side of his neck when he opens his eyes again. Two concerned friends looming over him rather than three cruel adults. 

He forces himself to his feet, draws in a ragged breath, and rasps out, “They killed me. The Dread Doctors.” 

“Wait, but...why?” Stiles asks, tugging Theo over to the couch. 

“I had only been with them for a year,” Theo mumbles, blinking away the afterimage of his dead body. “They tried to make me the vessel for the Beast, but it didn’t work.”  
  
“So you were useless to them, and they wanted to do away with you,” Stiles concludes. 

That stings, but he nods anyway. Their first failure. 

How do you get rid of an experiment you can’t kill? 

Scott’s brow furrows. He asks, “Theo...what’s Lycia?” 

“Am I supposed to know the answer to that?” the chimera responds, forehead creased in confusion. 

“You kept saying it when you were reliving the memory,” Stiles explains. “Back to Lycia, or something like that.”

At Theo’s contemplative silence, Scott presses further. “Was there anything else you saw? Anything you remembered?”

He tells them about the picture, the combination of animal bodies. Apparently that means something important, if the way Stiles’s brows raise into his hairline is anything to go by. 

“Why? Do you know what it is?” Theo questions.  
  
“Not exactly,” Stiles shrugs, “but I’ve got a feeling your boyfriend probably will.” 

*

“What you saw was a chimera. Not Dread Doctor chimeras, but the Greek mythology version,” Liam explains. “Lycia is...that’s where Mount Chimera was. It’s supposed to be the origin of the myth.” 

He pulls up a page on his laptop, turning the screen around to show Scott, Stiles, and Theo the image. A different rendition of the same creature from his memory of the Dread Doctors’ lab. 

“The Chimera is in the Iliad. It was basically this like, invincible hybrid monster that everyone wanted to get rid of but no one could kill,” Liam concludes. 

“You think they made me to be like that thing?” Theo wonders aloud. 

“Except they didn’t want a lion-goat-snake chimera. They wanted a wolf to host the Beast of Gévaudan,” Scott suggests. 

And to think Theo had believed himself to be a shitty version of a werewolf his entire life only to find out he’s actually the shitty version of a mythological beast. Perhaps it’s an upgrade. 

Liam chews on his bottom lip, thinking. “And once that failed...”

“They must’ve resorted to other means of making potential vessels,” Theo finishes. Less permanent ones. 

“Okay, wait a minute,” Stiles blurts, “Can we backtrack to the whole invincible thing? And the fact that Theo is possibly a literal monster from a Greek epic?” 

“Not a monster,” Liam corrects with a reassuring squeeze of Theo’s thigh. “Just...made in the image of one?” 

“Thanks,” he snorts. 

“So basically, that just brings us back to what we already know. Theo can’t be killed,” Scott remarks. 

“Well, actually the Chimera was eventually killed by this monster slayer dude,” Liam shrugs. “It’s a pretty interesting story, but uh, we don’t want Theo dead. So.” 

“No, please, tell me more about the slaying of my ancient Greek predecessor,” Theo murmurs into his ear. “Really gets me going.” 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Liam grins. Stiles mock gags, and Theo considers bringing up the time he was forced to hear him begging Derek to roleplay as the Big Bad Wolf to his Little Red Riding hood…

But he abstains. Mainly because that’s a memory he’s desperate to forget. 

There’s a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue that gets cut off by the shrill ring of Scott’s phone followed by the incessant vibrating of the rest of their phones as they’re bombarded with text messages. 

“Brett, Alec, and Malia got ambushed on patrol. Hunters took Alec,” Scott reports, jumping to his feet. 

Nothing like rage like a burning fire to bring a pack together in an effort to retrieve their lost one. Running headfirst into the danger calling out to them. 

Like lambs to slaughter. 

*

Monroe evades capture, again. The pack shows mercy to their attackers, again. Little lost lamb returns safely to the flock after a heated confrontation and one casualty; body hits dirt and mythic blood leaks out from beneath it to feed the earth, its altar.

Theo hasn’t been keeping a running tally, but if he were, it’d look something like this: 

Alec: III

Brett: II

Corey: I

Derek: --

Liam: II

Lydia: II

Malia: --

Mason: II

Peter: --

Scott: II

Stiles: I

He swears it’s not as bad as it seems. Really. It’s okay. 

*

“We need to kill your chimera.” 

Theo’s still trying to reign in his heartbeat, fear-addled mind struggling to comprehend Liam’s words post-nightmare. The wolf places a warm hand on his chest, and Theo momentarily tenses, but finds himself relieved to note there’s not a gaping wound there. Liam reaches past his head, switching on the lamp on Theo’s nightstand. 

“You...want to kill me?” He mutters, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up. 

“No,” Liam answers. “Just your chimera side, then—” 

Theo frowns, “That _is_ me. That’s all of me.” 

Down to the marrow and bone. His entire resilient, broken being. 

“It’s not. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you should ask Scott to give you the bite,” Liam suggests. 

Maybe it’s the way Theo’s jaw goes slack, that stunned expression, or his apparent inability to form any real response to the notion, but Liam elaborates. 

“It’s how we could kill your chimera without killing you,” he says. “You won’t be one anymore if you’re a werewolf...and, if your resurrection ability is linked to that, then maybe it’ll go away too? I mean, worst case scenario, it doesn’t take and you stay as you are.”

“Oh.” 

“Hayden got the bite and became a werewolf. The same will happen to you...as long as—”

“I have to be dying for it to take,” Theo guesses. “Or else it’ll just heal.” 

Liam hesitates, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “Yeah. I think so.” 

Strangled laughter bubbles from his throat, comes out all wrong. Boy made myth would get what he’s always wanted but needs to kill the mythos inside him to do so. 

He buries his face in his hands, mostly to hide the way it’s struggling to settle on a single emotion. Supposed to only feel one thing at a time, and whatnot. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbles when Liam starts rubbing his back, a cloud of anxiety drifting over from him. “It’s just a lot.” 

He’d be stronger, have sharper senses, heal faster. 

He’d also be disposable. 

“There are conditions, I think. There can’t be any wolfsbane in your body, or else the bite won’t take.”

“We’re going up against a bunch of trigger happy werewolf hunters. I think the chances of me dying from anything other than wolfsbane bullets are pretty unlikely, and that’s coming from experience,” Theo retorts, raising his head at last. 

“Yeah,” Liam pauses, brows knitting together. “I think we’d have to burn it out first.” 

Theo switches off the lamp on his bedside table and pulls the two of them back beneath the covers with a mumble of, “We can talk about it in the morning.” He lets Liam‘s heartbeat usher him back under. 

*

There’s more to consider beyond the possibility of the bite failing. If it works, he’ll need to reel in his reckless altruistic streak lest he slip up and accidentally end up dead. 

For real this time. 

There’s drawbacks besides the obvious, like becoming hindered by mountain ash, more vulnerable to wolfsbane, and adjusting to the pull of the moons. Might not be able to access his fullshift coyote form any longer, but he wanted this. To not only be able to claim belonging in a pack, but to feel that bond in his blood. 

He’s always wanted this. 

*

Theo’s able to hold himself up—supporting his weight against a tree—long enough to hear the the pop of the gun going off, to see Monroe stumble and collapse to the ground, clutching the bullet wound in her stomach. After months of trying to get rid of her, she gets killed by her own allies by _accident_. Caught in the disorienting crossfire of a bunch of young werewolves. He tries to laugh but coughs up blood instead, back sliding against the rough bark until he’s sitting at the tree’s base. The world tilts and slants around him, and Theo doesn’t realize he’s been falling forward until his head thumps against a firm shoulder. 

There’s a spark and scorching fire igniting his body in multiple locations, then warmth as the sting ebbs away. 

“It’s over,” Liam murmurs, pocketing a lighter. “You’re gonna be okay, it’s over.” 

The rest are joining around him moments later. Scott crouches by his side, grasping Theo’s forearm and siphoning residual pain. 

“Theo, I need to know that you really want this. I’ll do it, just...tell me you’ve made up your mind,” Scott whispers. 

An unnatural hush has fallen over the group, and Theo idly thinks that it’s not usually this solemn when he’s dying. Just comfort all around and quiet, thankful murmurs. Then Scott grips his arm just a bit tighter, a desperate, _“Theo, please,”_ falling past his lips, and the chimera remembers that this isn’t supposed to be like the other times. 

“C’n I lay down first?” 

Liam guides him downward, until his head’s resting in the beta’s lap, glassy eyes gazing up at the stars. The pack piles closer then, knelt in the dirt around the dying boy’s body. 

Scott leans forward into his line of sight, eyes silently asking the question he’d spoken aloud moments prior. Theo nods weakly, each breath trailing off into a faint wheeze.

The alpha’s eyes gleam like the ichor leaving Theo’s body. Scott brings the forearm to his mouth. Pauses. Watches the flicker of the chimera’s eyelids, hears his heart begin to slow. 

He bites.

*

Forty fretful minutes later, there’s a slow intake of breath, and then electric blue eyes blinking open. Like waking up from a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andddd here it is, the conclusion to this itty bitty story~ Thank you so much for reading, I had a lot of fun writing this and I certainly hope it was a satisfying (and comprehensible) way to wrap things up! Hoping to experiment with writing shorter form content more often, so maybe there'll be more stuff to come. 
> 
> Comments/Kudos/Questions/Whatever you feel are always welcome + appreciated! :)


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